Posts Tagged ‘winter’


Underneath the frost it turns

hidden in a fog it churns

winter snaps its coiled whip

cracks the ice but holds its grip.

It wraps the trees in shiver beads

chews on shadows, spits out seeds

to grace the gardens flocked in sleep

waiting for that northward leap

of the wandering, prodigal sun.



© 2014, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright


Wishing everyone a gentle Winter’s Solstice

and a peaceful celebration of the holidays – the holy days –

whichever days are sacred to you. 

For in the end, each day is sacred and precious.  



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When we see

snow flocked trees,

a soaring hawk

and winter greens

we seize the beauty

and set it free:

catch   and   release.



©  2017  Betty Hayes Albright 


(True of all artists, photographers, writers, sculptors, painters, musicians. 🙂 )


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We leave our warm houses

and walk the long path

to the meadow, where shadows

are caught in mid-freeze


and stillness becomes us,

a breath in the thickets

a widening of eyes

the gentle padding of time.


And from the trees

rays of sun

splay through dark branches

and land at our feet


as we raise up our arms

to welcome the moment

when light reacquaints us

with Light.



(c) 2003, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright


(re-post, revised)


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I am the water

you draw from your well

steep me

into your tea.


I am the slice of hot toast

on your plate

let me melt

your fresh apple butter.


I am the evergreen

on your morning walk

breathe me

into your shadow.


I am the eyes

meeting yours

in the marketplace

see my hunger.


I am the line

down the middle of your road

follow me

through the desert.


I am the match

that lights your winter fire

catch my sparks

in a jar.


I am the north star

in your fevered night

reach out to me, love

shine on me.



(c) 1995, 2017  Betty Hayes Albright


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White Night


And there was such a midnight

when the air took on a glow

and the sky began to loosen

and the dark was lit by snow

and the woods were sooner filled

with a whispering gypsy light

that danced across my footprints,

then swaddled them in white.


(c) 1993, 2017 Betty Hayes Albright


(a re-post)




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It’s one more slippery

snow-white day

when every bird

has stolen away


except for one

in the old elm tree

who watches my window.

But does he see me,


or just the reflection

of love left behind?

I blow him a kiss

through the half-opened blind.


And as each new season

transfigures our view

perhaps he won’t mind

that I’m watching him too.


© 2017  Betty Hayes Albright 

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Roses through the trees

still of winter stroking wild

in a Van Gogh sky.


(c) 2015 Betty Hayes Albright


(photo taken 2-16-2015)

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(This is a companion to the previous poem.)



What are these icy blades

that pull words crisp

through dunes of snow,

that draw my heart

to shiver

in your sea?

Fly if you must

beyond this salty mood

(still frozen to my cheek)

and I will wait

for winter’s hands

to thaw.


(c) 1993, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright


(photo taken a few years ago)

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This tall stretch

of a winter’s day

scrapes silver

from the crumpled sky.

I turn to face

a southern glow

with eyes upraised

and heart thrice full –

O Sun, I’d woo thee

north again

to light this shadow land.


(c) 1993, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright

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(written for my young sons in 1979)


Children, lay your presents down,

come look and see what I just found –

a tree outside all flocked in snow

that doesn’t need a wire to glow;

playful squirrels – the romping kind

that you never have to wind.

A snowman’s outside every home,

not one is made of Styrofoam.

There’s peace and quiet for your heart

not found inside a shopping cart,

and living color in a smile

that’s brought to you without a dial. *

The wind is singing up the street

to rosy cheeks and dancing feet,

to easy laughter, mellow sighs,

whispering of the grand surprise

that comes on winter’s longest night –

the promise of returning Light.

So children, lay your presents down,

behold the gift that Love has found.


© 1979, 2014 Betty Hayes Albright


* Waaay back in the late 60’s and early 70’s, certain t.v. shows were “brought to you in living color” (as opposed to the more common black and white) – on televisions that still had dials. Funny – seems so antiquated now.


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